


Siths Don’t See Therapists

by skywalkersaber



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Has Issues, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Leia Organa, Child Luke Skywalker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Bail Organa/Breha Organa, Not Beta Read, Padmé Amidala Lives, Sith Anakin Skywalker, Suitless Darth Vader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28683510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkersaber/pseuds/skywalkersaber
Summary: After being terrorized with grief for three years, Darth Vader has decided to do something about it. Even if the idea of a Sith seeing a therapist sounds ridiculous.Obi Wan and Padmé go behind the rebellions back in attempts to collect info on the infamous Sith Lord, Darth Vader.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Bail Organa & Leia Organa, Bail Organa & Luke Skywalker, Breha Organa & Leia Organa, Breha Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala & Leia Organa, Padmé Amidala & Luke Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala/Darth Vader
Comments: 60
Kudos: 206





	1. Chapter 1

Vader wasn’t at all used to these kind of things. As Anakin, negative emotions were something to be bottled up and stored away. That was the way of the Jedi. The Sith, on the other hand, encouraged negative emotion, it was their power.

So you could imagine the disgust he felt when he found himself searching the holonet for a good therapist. 

It was ridiculous, he knew, and he knew his master, and any other Sith, would laugh and mock him if they ever found out. A Sith at the therapists office? That was a bad comedy bit. But, to his despair, it had become his reality. 

It had been a few years since Vader lost Padmé, and though his anger at the ones he felt took her from him had been his fire in the beginnings of his Sith path, that flame had begun to dim. Anger and hate was easy in the midst of battle, and for the first year after Padmé’s death, all he did was fight. The dark side came easy as he murdered ruthlessly, as the only thing he saw was red and the only thing he thought about was the next life that would pay for his misery. In that year, Vader had proved to Sidious that he was the perfect Sith.

As a reward for Vader’s cruelty, he’d been given time away from the killing, and it was only then he realized the extent of what had happened.

It was only then that Vader mourned his wife properly, sobbed for her and cursed his own incompetence for his death, not the Jedi, even if he did hate them, he knew it was just as much his fault as it was theirs. And realizing the extent of the crimes he committed, and how he’d gone against everything Padmé had fought for in the life she’d been robbed of too soon, he found himself begging her forgiveness. He felt something Sith weren’t supposed to feel for their victims- he felt remorse. 

Vader was able to keep up with what Sidious demanded, but it weighed him down like his heart was turning to stone in his chest. The anger he’d thrived on was still present, but the small bit that remained had become growing resentment towards his master.

The logical part of Vader’s brain saw this wrong. How could he hate the man who’d shown him the flaws in his life, who’d freed him from the restrains of the Jedi. Vader would not let his sorrow overtake him, he would not fall as his masters past apprentices did. Vader would not fail, even if it meant facing the shame of booking a therapy appointment.

—

“Padmé, you know how much I’d love to have you help us,” Bail said, his face sympathetic, but it did nothing to soften Padmé’s demeanor. “It’s just too risky.”

“I’m sick of hiding here, feeling like a victim.” Padmé argued, but Bail only sighed. He hadn’t budged for three years now, she wondered why she even tried anymore. 

Bail and Padmé were having their daily tea in her sitting room. The area was decorated in the styles of Naboo, flowers, plants, and paintings every where, but the effect was much less comforting than intended, and instead only served as a reminder of her long gone freedom. The galaxy thought she was dead, and the high ups in the rebellion were doing everything to maintain that image. Padmé had barely been out of her new home on Alderaan since she arrived days after her children’s birth. 

“Think of the twins,” Bail placed his hand atop hers and squeezed comfortingly. “Your efforts are valiant, but your priority must be to protect the children.”

Padmé faltered, her eyes cast away from Bail. Though her always stubborn attitude fought to disagree, she knew he was right. Protecting Luke and Leia was the only thing that mattered anymore. The twins lived on Alderaan with her for now, and she would do anything to keep it that way, instead of separating them as Obi Wan had initially suggested. 

“If the emperor finds out you’re alive,” Bail continued, and Padmé raised her eyes back to his. “He will come for the children. Luke and Leia cannot fall to the same fate as Anakin-“ 

“Yes, I know.” Padmé cut him off at the mention of her deceased husband. She couldn’t bare to think about it again, to be as she had for the first few months of her babies lives; an emotional wreck, unable to do much but sleep and weep. Luckily Bail and Breha had acted as almost second parents in this time, and Obi Wan, of course, a dutiful uncle. They still did, really. But even so, Padmé chose to avoid thoughts of Anakin, avoid the depressive episodes she couldn’t seem to escape. 

“I’m sorry,” Bail let go of her hand stood up to leave. “I’ll see you again tomorrow?” 

“Of course,” Padmé promised, as she always did, her smile only a little forced.

— 

After the fall of the Jedi Order, Obi Wan had joined the rebellion. He didn’t want to at first, but had followed Padmé to Alderaan to protect the twins, a job that had become his first priority after Anakin’s death. Padmé had listened to Bail’s suggestion of moving to Alderaan in hopes of helping the rebellion, but the months of waiting for the right time slowly became years, and now, everyone but Padmé had accepted she would likely not be joining until at least Luke and Leia were fully grown. To ease her mind, Obi Wan joined as a high official, and would give her updates every time they met. 

“We’ve gotten intel from an inside spy, quite the amusing piece of information, really,” Obi Wan laughed a bit thinking about it, and Padmé’s eyes widened. 

“Well?” She pushed.

“Darth Vader’s looking for a therapist,” Obi Wan chuckled, but Padmé just furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

“Doesn’t that defeat the point of the whole..” Padmé glanced around the room searching for the right words. “Sith anger thing?” 

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” 

Obi Wan and Padmé were sitting in the twins playroom, watching as the two stacked blocks clumsily. They wore little matching outfits, something Padmé thought was adorable, if a bit tacky. Breha and her had made an almost hobby out of finding the cutest clothes to dress the twins in, as if they were little dress up dolls. Padmé turned to Obi Wan once again. 

“So, what is the rebellion gonna do with that intel?” Padmé inquired.

“Nothing,” Obi Wan said simply, as he used the force to hover a ball just above her babies heads. Luke reached for it, giggling, and Leia stole the blue block they’d been fighting over as he was preoccupied. “It’s not worth it. He’s probably just trying to get info on senators. Besides, our numbers are much too short to send someone.”

“What if I went?” Padmé suggested, quietly as if she barely wanted him to hear it. 

Obi Wan hummed to himself. He’d always been one of the few people in favor of Padmé joining the rebellion. Of course, she was a mother above all now, but she’d been a leader, and that’s spark couldn’t just be killed as everyone seemed it could. Besides, her emotional stake was much too large to make her sit and watch as the emperor took more lives like he had Anakins. Obi Wan could not exactly support revenge, being a Jedi, but Padmé was not a Jedi, and if she wanted a bit of revenge, he would not stop her. 

“I guess I could try,” Obi Wan agreed. “But only if we can get him to book with an anonymous office.” 

Padmé couldn’t help but grin. She knew she should be nervous, talking to Darth Vader in person, even if it was behind a protective wall and dark veil as most organic therapists chose to be these days, was beyond terrifying. But excitement still bubbled in her, she would finally be in action again, she would finally be doing something. 

—

Vader has chosen to see an anonymous therapist. It would be difficult to find a non droid therapist who would be willing to be face to face with him, but he also preferred to not have anyone know his identity anyways. Of course that would mean he wouldn’t know the other persons either, but he thought it was worth the risk.

The therapist Vader had chosen was located in the lower levels of Coruscant. It was the first time he’d been to this area willingly, though he’d visited the grimy underground many times before on missions; both for the Jedi and the emperor. 

Vader was much more dressed down than typical, wearing a simple outfit of all black and a brown hood rather than the terrifying suit he normally wore, which served as both a scare tactic and a way to conceal his identity. It was the first time in years Vader had been out it public without his mask, actually, and he felt almost naked, even with the knowledge no one would see him with how he used the force to cast his face in darkness.

He walked fast through the smog and overall grossness, and quickly slid into the door when he reached the right address. Vader was greeted by a poorly lit room. It was littered with fake flowers and plants, and a large sofa sat against a wall with a dark screen. He’d never been to a place like this before, but he assumed that’s where’d he’d talk to his doctor. He took a seat upon the dusty, mint colored couch and attempted to calm his nerves as he waited.

Sith lords do not get nerves, he reminded himself.

“Are you my four o’clock?” A small, feminine voice called from behind the screen. 

“Yes, I am,” Vader answered with an awkward cough, and he swore he heard her laugh. He’d be angry if he wasn’t so consumed by his anxiety. 

“Wonderful,” She replied simply, her voice closer to the screen now. Vader heard the sound of the old chair squeaking as she sat down in her seat. “Where shall we begin?”

—

Bail could’ve killed Obi Wan right then and there.

The Jedi had taken Padmé out of Alderaan without anyone’s knowledge, leaving a note behind. 

Padmé and I shall be back at the end of the week. Please put the children under the care of Breha until we return. 

Best wishes,   
Obi Wan Kenobi

Obi Wan should be happy Bail doesn’t send the entire fleet after him. Well, he would if Obi Wan wasn’t practically commander of the entire fleet. Sometimes he regretted giving that Jedi so much power.

—

Padmé had quickly gotten settled in the apartment in Coruscant. She’d had an apartment here at one time, after all, though she must admit sharing a small living space with Obi Wan in the lowers levels was much different than the penthouse she’d been treated with as a senator. That being said, Padmé was nothing if not resilient, and Obi Wan’s Jedi traits made him more than adaptable. Besides, Padmé enjoyed any change of scenery, even if said scenery was the crime ridden lower levels.

They’d arrived only hours before Vader’s first scheduled appointment, and they’d leave at the end of the week to be home to see the twins for the weekend. The two tidied up Padmé’s fake office just in time for Obi Wan to hide away before Vader arrived. 

“Are you my four o’clock?” Padmé called out, into the room she couldn’t see. 

“Yes, I am,” Vader replied simply, but the sound struck her. He didn’t use a voice modulator as he did in typical public appearances, and he sounded so young, Padmé almost doubted it was the Sith lord. The dark presence that even a non force sensitive person could feel killed those doubts quickly, though. 

“Wonderful,” Padmé said as she sat down, but she was practically forcing herself to speak now. His very existence in the room made her feel as if she was choking on air, though maybe it was just the dusty office. “Where shall we begin?”

Vader introduced himself to her quite vaguely, as expected. He explained that he could not have distractions in his line of work, and that the emotions he’d come here to “eradicate” were a huge hurdle in that.

“You can’t just kill emotions you don’t like,” Padmé told him, and he audibly huffed, as if he was a child.

“I can do whatever I like,” Vader said, and though Padmé could not see him, she could hear that he spoke through gritted teeth. “This is no use.”

“No, no,” Padmé sighed. Vader was stubborn, and though she’d expected it, she was still surprised to hear a grown man who’s attitude closely resembled her infant son’s. “Let’s go back a bit. What’s the cause of these unwanted emotions?” 

“I lost someone,” Vader said, his voice low. His mood seemed to shift quickly. Maybe she’d finally get something out of him. “Someone very close to me.”

“Who was this person to you?” Padmé said delicately. She was shocked to hear the Sith practically admit to caring about someone.

“Does that matter?” Vader practically growled. Padmé rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see her in fear he’d snap her neck at her mockery. 

“Yes,” she continued, still gentle. “If we want to get anywhere.”

“Fine,” Vader sighed. He took a moment to speak again, as if he was gathering his thoughts. “My wife, I lost my wife.” 

Padmé had to keep contain herself. Vader had been married? There was no way that was public information.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” She said, almost genuinely. He did sound quite broken up about it, but still, he was a Sith. He was evil. He didn’t deserve her sympathy. “How long ago was this?”

“Around three years ago.” Padmé’s mind raced. Three years ago? That’s about the time Vader had been introduced to the public as Palpatine’s right hand man. Had Palpatine killed Vader’s wife? She wouldn’t put it past the monster. 

“It was tragic,” Vader continued on. “She was so young, and pregnant with our child.” 

Padmé couldn’t help feeling sorry for him now. She knew what it was like to lose a spouse, but if she’d lost her children too? She couldn’t imagine going on. 

“That’s so awful,” Padmé was being honest this time, she felt like crying at the thought. “Would you tell me about her?”

Padmé heard a sniffle from behind the screen. He couldn’t be crying, could he? Sith lords did not cry as far as she knew. He coughed awkwardly before he spoke again. 

“She was gorgeous,” Padmé could hear the sad smile behind his words. “Every part of her, her mind and soul. She was the first person, other than my mother, to make me feel loved. She was perfect.”

Padmé’s heart ached. His voice, though still much younger than usual before, had lost the obvious effort he was putting in, and finally Padmé felt as if she was hearing him truly. His voice was familiar. One she’d only heard over the replays of old holorecordings for the last three years.

“How did she die?” Padmé asked, but she was afraid she already knew the answer.

Vader could be heard choking back sobs now. He couldn’t say what he’d done. He couldn’t. 

“I killed her.” 

Anakin.


	2. Chapter 2

Padmé felt as if she couldn’t breath for the rest of the session. Vader went on about his wife, gushing about her positive characteristics. He explained how she was the smartest person he’d ever met, and the kindest as well. He even detailed the dates they’d taken when they’d be married. Padmé was surprised she hadn’t crumbled in her seat yet. 

When he finally left, Padmé took a deep breath, as if she was coming up from under the water.

How could he be so sick? Vader must’ve known it was her, or someone close to her, to tell those lies. To tell stories as if he was Anakin. How long would it be before he came back and killed her? Or was he still there, watching her suffer and enjoying it. That sick bastard. 

She should’ve known this was a bad idea. Of course the empire would know it was her as soon as she arrived in Coruscant, and Palpatine, the sadist he was, sent Vader to imitate her deceased husband. 

“Padmé?” She finally looked up, to see Obi Wan kneeling before her, worry painted across his face as he gripped her arm. “Are you alright? You’re hyperventilating,” 

“Did- did you hear what he said?” Padmé asked, her voice broken and shaky under her fear and anger. Obi Wan was supposed to be listening in that whole time, how was he not panicking as well? It must be a Jedi thing.

“Yes,” he said, sighing. He let go of her arm and stood up, now pacing around thoughtfully, stroking his beard.

“He’s gonna come back and kill me,” Padmé sobbed, her breathing still out of place. “How could he pretend to be Anakin like that, what did he gain? Just to hurt me. Why couldn’t he of just killed me?” 

“Padmé,” Obi Wan said carefully, his voice sad. “He was not pretending.”

Padmé froze, her racing heart coming to a halt.

“What do you mean?” She prompted quietly, genuinely confused. “He described me, he described our dates in detail. That’s not a coincidence. He even sounded like him.” 

“I don’t know how,” Obi Wan continued. Padmé tried to make eye contact with him, but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “But that was Anakin. I could feel it. Really, I don’t know how he didn’t sense me. His emotions must be clouding him.”

Padmé didn’t speak for a long while. The two remained in silence as the city hustled noisily outside. She couldn’t accept that was Anakin, yet, she felt him too. Maybe the Sith had infiltrated her mind, maybe everything had been a trick of the dark side. No, she knew that wasn’t right either. 

“I thought you killed him,” Padmé said finally.

“I thought so too.”

Obi Wan could remember so clearly how he left Anakin. Burning, on the verge of death. The cruelty of it haunted him in his sleep, he regretted letting Anakin die that in that slow and torturous way, regretted not putting him out of his misery. 

He’d never told Padmé how exactly Anakin had died. He’d said he killed him quickly, and that it was painless. Obi Wan often reassured her that he felt Anakin’s presence in the force around them, watching over the children, but it was a lie. He never questioned why he never felt Anakin, he assumed the force didn’t grant Sith’s the pleasure of the afterlife. Or maybe, Anakin was too long gone for Obi Wan to recognize his signature.

But now it seemed Obi Wan had been wrong; Anakin, or Vader as he was now called, was alive. And though he could barely process it himself, it seemed Padmé was having a much harder time.

“I’m sorry I never told you the truth of his death,” Obi Wan said sorrowfully, but Padmé barely acknowledged him.

“You should’ve made sure he was dead,” Obi Wans eyes widened, for some reason he half expected her to be happy Anakin was alive. “You really thought Palpatine would let Anakins power go to waste? He’d do anything to have him serve him.” 

Padmé, despite her franticness, was right, as always. 

“We have to leave,” She insisted. 

“No, that will just make him suspicious, he could go after us,” Obi Wan argued. He understood her urgency to get away from the monster she was still technically married too, but they couldn’t leave quite yet. “Besides, maybe we could use this to the advantage of the rebellion.”

“We can’t tell them anything about this!” Padmé looked at Obi Wan as if he was an idiot. She looked away from him as his eyes met hers. “I- I can’t let them kill him.” 

“You just said I should’ve killed him better,” Obi Wan was confused on her indecisiveness, but then again he wasn’t quite sure how he was feeling either. On one hand Anakin was no longer truly Anakin, he was Vader, but on the other- what kind of Sith lord talked the way he did to Padmé? What kind of Sith lord went to see a therapist? 

“He’s not completely gone, Obi Wan,” Padmé said, tears welling up in her eyes. “You saw it too, I know you did.” 

And again, she was right. 

—

Vader had left the session conflicted. The entire room had been screaming with the light side of the force, something so misplaced in the grimy underworld of Coruscant.

For years, Vader had not only pushed away, but crushed any light that was unfortunate enough to get near him. But in that office, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt warm with it, as if he were in her arms again. 

Really, the room screamed of Padmé. As if she had been there with him. Vader had called out into the force for her, but that time, like the countless others he had tried before, was unsuccessful. Sith just didn’t have that connection.

But it had felt so real, as if he could blink and she’d be standing before him when he opened his eyes. He’d even mistaken his therapists voice with hers, his memories and realities blending together to make his heart ache. 

Vader knew this was a temptation, one he should resist, something that would weaken him, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to feel that light again, to feel her again.

—

Vader had booked another appointment, only a day after their last. If it wasn’t for the suspicion their disappearance would’ve raised, Padmé would’ve fled the second Anakin even came to mind, but now she was stuck here, playing pretend therapist to the shell of her husband she was still regrettably in love with. 

The two sat in her office now, and he spent the majority of the session going on about his wife. At times Padmé found herself a bit lost in his words, almost enjoying it as if they were new lovers like they’d been all those years ago in Naboo. She’d snap herself out of it quickly though; this wasn’t the Anakin she’d married, this was the Sith who’d taken his place.

As the end of the session neared, Vader became more serious, his attitude felt like it was dragging across the floor. Padmé glanced to wear Obi Wan was hiding worriedly. 

Vader’s voice rose, and suddenly, the feeling that she couldn’t breathe multiplied by a hundred. Anger seethed through him. 

—

“My wife was pregnant when she died,” Vader explained to his therapist their next session. The light that overflowed from the area the last time he was there was still present, and warming his very core. “We hadn’t even thought of names yet.” 

“How far along was she?” The more his therapist talked, the more she sounded like Padmé to him. It made him shiver, the delusions must be getting to him.

“Six months,” he answered. “I was just too busy to have the time to sit down and talk about those things.”

“And you regret that?”

“More than anything.” Vader clasped his hands together as if to soothe himself. In his head he constantly reminded himself of Padmé’s presence in the force, the warmth and light around him. “It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t,” She soothed, but Vader wouldn’t have it.

“I told you what I did, I killed her,” he could feel the dark bubbling in him with the thought of it. How could he have let himself do that, be so influenced as to murder his own wife? He was a monster. 

“It was an accident.” She said, but even she sounded unsure. 

“We both know I’m a monster,” Vader said through gritted teeth. “Denying it is useless.” 

“You can’t live with this unfounded guilt all your life,” she insisted. 

“Unfounded?” He was offended, almost, that this woman would doubt him, or his wife. Would doubt that his worst crime was killing the only thing he had left. “I murdered her in cold blood, I should suffer eternity for it.”

“Anakin-“ she stopped herself from speaking further, but it was too late.

-

Obi Wan could feel as Vader’s anger grew, and he watched carefully over Padmé. Despite the woman’s smarts, she seemed to only provoke the Sith. 

“I murdered her in cold blood, I should suffer eternity for it,” Vader said, but instead of the regret and sadness that was usually present, there were bites of anger. The dark side hanging onto every one of his words. 

“Anakin-“

Padmé misspoke, and suddenly, it was as if all there heartbeats had gone still at once.

“What did you just say?” Vader asked, his voice low again, like his typical Sith self. Obi Wan felt the same burning cold radiate off of him as he had in Mustafar all those years ago. 

Padmé tried to stutter out a response, but it was no use.

Suddenly, there was the sound of glass shattering, and Obi Wan was force to bolt from his hiding place. 

Before him stood Anakin- no, Vader, just without the mask, dressed in a hood with his eyes a flaming yellow glow. It was as if he had stayed unchanged since the day Obi Wan had left him to die. Padmé lay on the ground, surrounded by glass that had someone how managed not to cut her.

He prepared for Vader’s next attack, but it didn’t come. Obi Wan didn’t know Sith even had the ability to be so surprised.


	3. Chapter 3

Vader had really lost it, hadn’t he? First he willingly went to see a therapist, and now he was seeing his dead wife laying before him, very much alive. Even Obi Wan was there, though, oddly enough, dead wife and Obi Wan seemed like a package deal.

“Padmé?” Vader said quietly, but Padmé just looked up at him, dazed.

Oh, force, what had he done? The first time he sees his wife in three years and he manages to hurt her right off the bat. 

“I’m sorry,” Vader apologized, and kneeled to help her up. His knees crunched into the glass and he could feel Obi Wans eyes on him, but both seemed much less important than this. “Are you alright?”

“Alright?” Obi Wan mocked, “you almost just killed her.”

Vader did his best to ignore him as he tended to Padmé. She groaned and placed a hand on her head.

“Obi Wan?” She said wearily, eyes shut tight. “What happened?” 

“Look for yourself.”

Padmé opened her eyes with effort, it felt as if they’d been glued shut. Kneeling beside her was Anakin. No; Vader, but still, his blue eyes could’ve fooled her. He was helping her up from the floor, one hand placed behind her head and the other on her arm.

Surrounding her was shattered glass, but none of it seemed to have harmed her. Padmé allowed Vader to help her off the floor and lead her to a chair, their shoes making crunching noises on the broken glass as she stumbled over.

She’d taken too big of a fall to register how odd it was that Vader and Obi Wan weren’t at each other’s throats, but she could still feel the tension in the room. The two were restraining themselves, for her sake. 

Vader’s eyes flickered over her countless times, and his hand stayed firm on her arm. He acted as if he wasn’t sure she was real. Fair enough, she presumed, he didn’t seem very real either- though nothing did with the way her head spun. 

“How are you here?” He breathed, it the same whispering voice he’d have every time they snuck away durning the marriage, as if he was so excited he could barely breathe. 

“Maybe we could discuss this after I stop seeing doubles?” Padmé groaned, and Obi Wan smiled slightly. 

“Yes, of course, sorry,” Vader said, acting like a wounded puppy. It would be almost amusing if not for the severity of the situation. 

“Maybe we should go back to the apartment,” Obi Wan suggested, and Padmé nodded with a wince; even the slightest movement hurt. “You need to rest.”

Obi Wan stepped towards her to help her from her seat, but Vader blocked his way. 

“I’ll help her,” he insisted forcefully, practically pushing Obi Wan back before going to assist Padmé. “And I’m coming with.”

Obi Wan moved to protest, but Padmé shot him a look- there was no way she was gonna let them fight while she was incapacitated. Not after the last time. 

—

Vader watched as Obi Wan tended to Padmé, placing a wash cloth over her eyes and holding her hand tightly. Vader had wanted to help her, but Obi Wan had kindly pushed against it, guilting him with the fact that he was the cause of the damage in the first place.

And so the Sith sulked in the corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest quite childishly. Padmé and Obi Wan were quite comfortable together, and Vader could feel the protection he felt over her. It made him furious. 

Had this been what conspired in the years after his assumed death? Vader had spent all his time mourning his lost wife, but his two closest friends decided just to move on? Together? Another reason to kill that pesky Jedi; after Padmé was safely back on his flagship, of course. 

Padmé quickly drifted to sleep, and Obi Wan finally left her side to join Vader at the table.

“So, you’re alive,” Obi Wan said simply. 

“So, you’re fucking my wife,” Vader retorted angrily, his face completely serious. Obi Wan stared at him for a moment, before bursting out laughing. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“You’re hilarious,” Obi Wan said between chuckles, he was practically crying. “Really, if the whole Sith thing doesn’t work, maybe you should try your luck at comedy.”

“This is serious!” Vader insisted, but Obi Wan looked at him like he was a clown. 

“I am not sleeping with Padmé,” Obi Wan assured him, but Vader wasn’t buying it. “We’re very close, yes, but that’s due to pure circumstance. She needed someone after Anakin left, and honestly, so did I.” 

Vader flinched at the mention of his old name, and of his wife’s apparent suffering. He thought back to the ridiculousness of his current situation.

“Why don’t you kill me?” Vader asked, and Obi Wan sighed heavily. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Obi Wan deflected, but they both knew why Vader wouldn’t kill Obi Wan. He needed Padmé back. Though he could just take her, he had some foolish hope she’d go with him if he was diplomatic enough. 

The truth was, Obi Wan saw too much of Anakin in Vader. Whether it be his own naivety or the truth, the Sith before him today was not the same he had dueled on Mustafar. Vader’s eyes were as blue as they’d been the day Qui Gon had taken him off Tatooine, not the sickly yellow most Sith sported. And even if Vader was the monster he was supposed to be, Obi Wan could be assured the man would at least wait to act until Padmé was safe. 

Both men knew it was not something he wouldn’t risk, and they left it at that.

—

Padmé awoke to the sound of yelling. She bolted out of bed in an instant, and her hand flew to the bedside table, pulling open a drawer where she always kept a blaster. As a queen, senator, and now a very high target of imperials, she had learned to be prepared.

As she snuck her away around the corner and into the next room, the events that had occurred only hours ago came flooding back. Vader, Anakin, whoever. She pushed the confusion away. What had that yelling been?

Had he killed Obi Wan? Likely, if the stories were true. Though her hopes of Anakin still being alive somewhere in Vader hadn’t completely died, she’d elected not to trust him. Padmé may see the face of her husband, but she wasn’t naive. She knew the awful things said about that man, and that wasn’t her Ani.

Padmé peaked out from the corner to try and get a better look of the scene, but instantly was met walking right into someone. 

“Woah there!” Obi Wan said as Padmé stepped into his path, blaster pointed in his face. She lowered it quickly and sighed. 

“Where’s Vader?” She questioned quickly, and he nodded to behind her. She turned around to see Vader sat at the living room table, staring at the two as if he was trying to kill them with his eyes. He probably could, she thought. 

“He’s been like that the last few hours,” Obi Wan told her, sipping on his tea. He held ice in one hand, Padmé presumed he must’ve burned himself; it happened often. “Though I assume he’ll try and kill me now that you’re awake.”

The Sith lifted his eyebrows at that, and thoughts for a moment. 

“Well, no,” Vader spoke, finally. “I’ll let you live, but I’d like Padmé to come with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Padmé snapped, and hesitantly lifted her blaster to Vader. He voice was much lower than it had been before, but he still looked like Anakin, and she struggled to even deny his request. 

Vader scoffed and rolled his eyes, with a sweep of his hand, her blaster had flown across the room. Padmé heart the sound of Obi Wan setting his teacup on the counter. She could almost go off on the Jedi at that very moment; could he have not dealt with this as soon as she was safe? Sure, killing a man with the face of your brother was an emotional toll, but he’d done it before! 

“I’ll kill him otherwise.” Vader said coldly, and stood up from his seat. Padmé took a step back, allowing Obi Wan to step in front of her. 

“I will not let you take her,” Obi Wan drew his lightsaber and Padmé internally screamed. Her head still throbbed, her husband was back from the dead, and they were never gonna get the deposit back after this. 

“So be it,” Vader drew his lightsaber as well, the red beam a foreign look in Anakin’s hands. Padmé held her breath and quickly ran into the corner of the kitchen behind the counter, far enough from the fight as she could manage.

The two jumped at each other, and the confined fight in the living room began. Obi Wan was somewhat out of practice, he hadn’t faced off with an opponent who wielded a lightsaber in quite some time, but he still managed to hold his own. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Vader was in the exact opposite position. Even if he wasn’t dueling on a regular, he would surely be training every second of free time to appease the emperor. Palpatine would have nothing less than a perfect Sith guard dog. 

It seemed as if Obi Wan struggled to keep up with Vader, and Padmé cursed the force for being blocked off from any exits or weapons. She watched as in a swift move, Vader disarmed Obi Wan and held the glowing blade to his neck. 

“Stop!” Padmé jumped out from behind the counter, and Vader turned his attention to her. “I’ll go with you, let him go.”

Vader smiled wickedly, nothing like the kind grin Anakin had shown her countless times. The Sith made quick cuts into Obi Wans legs and arms, and he screamed out. Padmé bit her tongue, it was only enough to keep him from following them, and she knew that rebellion agents were probably already on their way to bring her home. They’d find Obi Wan and bring him to safety. 

Vader holstered both sabers onto his belt and stepped away from where Obi Wan lay groaning on the floor. He went to hold Padmé’s hand, but she snatched it away, and so he grabbed her wrist instead. 

The two left, and Padmé couldn’t even bring herself to turn around as she heard Obi Wan call out for her. It was no use, if she’d let him die, Vader would’ve taken her anyway. At least now, there was hope.

—


	4. Chapter 4

Though only hours passed before Bail arrived, to Obi Wan, it felt like years. The physical pain he was in barely touched him in comparison to the emotional distress he was drowning in. How could he have been so stupid? 

He should’ve killed Vader the second he realized it was him, but attachment had gotten in the way. As every Jedi ever warned. Obi Wan had done well managing attachment, to allow himself to care without letting it impede his abilities. But maybe that was up to the people he cared about rather than his own willpower. Satine, Padmé, the twins, none of them had ever been his downfall, but Anakin proved himself to be the exception, as always. 

Obi Wan felt the pain in every inch of his body, and allowed it to remind him; Anakin was gone, his brother was dead.

When Bail arrived, Obi Wan had no time to explain the situation. The senator ordered for him to be brought back to the ship and attended to as necessary. 

“Obi Wan,” Bail said, sitting across from where the Jedi lay on the examination table. “Where’s Padmé?”

“Vader has taken her,” he sighed, and closed his eyes before he would have to see Bails horrified face. He heard footsteps leave the room, and for quite a few minutes, he was surrounded by silence. Then, they came back again.

“Why on earth would he do that?” Bail questioned, his usual calm voice much more interrogating now. “And why didn’t he kill you?” 

Obi Wan considered carefully. He wanted to lie to Bail. He didn’t know if he could face admitting to the fact that he had failed in killing Anakin, failed in protecting Padmé, failed to realize that Vader had truly consumed his friend. 

“Does he know of the twins?” Bail asked another question before Obi Wan could answer his last.

“I don’t believe so,” Obi Wan answered honestly. Unless Padmé told him, or he was able to read her that clearly, but he doubted either were likely considering the woman’s willpower. 

“We must take extra precaution,” Bail concluded, and turned towards the door. “I’ll have the twins under strict supervision of Breha and the royal guards at all hours.”

“And Padmé?”

“I’m putting you in charge of finding her,” Bail said. “You’re the most qualified, and of course, you’ll have whatever help you need.”

It seemed as if that was it, but Bail paused.

“Did you find any useful information on Vader?” Bail asked.

“No.” 

—

Padmé refused to talk to Vader, despite his endless attempts at small talk. He seemed to think she would be happy practically kidnapped, and was disappointed that she wasn’t. When ever she accidentally took a glimpse of the Sith she’d been very purposefully avoiding, she was Anakin’s pouting face. 

Luckily - well, at least lucky for her confused state - Vader was quickly back into the suit that he was so infamous for, and all hints of Anakin in him faded away. It was much easier to deny his attempts at conversation then.

Padmé held her breath as the speeder he’d pushed her into stopped at a large imperial base. She didn’t know what else she should’ve expected, but hundreds of stormtroopers lined in formation for the man she now knew as her husband still made her uneasy.

Vader had given Padmé a cloak before they came to the base, one much like the one he’d used to conceal his own identity. She was thankful for it now, as she felt the faceless eyes focused on her. 

Typically, Vader’s terrifying presence was enough to subdue any curiosity, but typically, the prisoners he brought in were in cuffs. Or just unconscious. Vader didn’t have the patience to keep from killing an unruly prisoner. 

Padmé had given up resisting his grip a long time ago, realizing it was just as much to keep her at his side as it was to make sure she was real. She let him lead her to the ship she was sure would be transporting them to the Executer, the flagship that seemed to be the closest thing he had to a home. She shuddered at the idea of being kept locked up there.

Vader didn’t talk to Padmé at all in front of the stormtroopers, just kept his grip on her shoulder firm and held her tightly to his side. The soldiers probably thought she was some kind of new pet, she could vomit at the thought. If Vader had kept any decency Anakin had, he would be equally disgusted by it, though she was sure that at least his colleagues indulged in such evil pleasures. 

Finally, they stepped afoot the ship and the ramp closed behind them. 

“You may take your cloak off now,” Vader said as he sat in the pilots seat. “We’re alone now.”

Padmé looked around as she lifted her cloak. It had partially obscured her vision, but now there wasn’t even much to look at. She sat across from Vader, who was beginning to start up the ship. It was no surprise he’d be flying himself; Anakin never gave up the chance to pilot. 

“They’re not the same,” Padmé muttered to herself quietly. 

“What?” Vader questioned her mumbling, though she could tell he knew exactly what she had said, and what she meant by it. “You know, I’m not him, but I love you the same.” 

“I didn’t know Sith were capable of love,” Padmé quipped. “Other than self love, of course.”

“It’s the Jedi that can’t love,” he said angrily, but still calm considering his reputation. “Or aren’t supposed to, anyway. And believe me, I am anything but full of self love.” 

Padmé rolled her eyes. Did Vader really think he’d gain sympathy with self deprecation? 

“I’d loathe myself too if I were a monster,” she told him, not caring much that he seemed genuinely hurt. Or at least telling herself not to care. 

“So you hate me?”

Padmé didn’t answer. She couldn’t truthfully say she hated him. She did hate Darth Vader, but as much as she told herself otherwise, she didn’t believe Anakin was completely gone. And no matter how far out of her reach he was, she’d always love Anakin.

“I see,” Vader said, happily, taking her silence as a no. Padmé resented it, but she couldn’t exactly correct him either. 

—

Vader led Padmé through the industrial halls of the Executor. They’d been greeted by more soldiers when they’d arrived, and she’d been instructed to once again put up her cloak. Now they walked silently through the cold ship. 

Padmé couldn’t help but feel as if the place was empty, despite knowing thousands of crew were onboard. Something about the dullness of the walls and large passages with not a soul in sight made it feel more like a big coffin rather than a place that was held many lives. 

Finally, they were brought to Vader’s quarters; a doorway so plain and unremarkable it could’ve been passed off as a large storage cabinet if not for the armed guards stood outside. The two stepped away as Vader approached, and the doors opened automatically. 

Inside was a sleek black couch and table, and another set of doors that were open to reveal a large bed. The place was devoid of any personality, like a scene set to sell furniture at a department store only a thousand times worse. 

Padmé took off the cloak completely now and turned to face Vader. The Sith had taken his menacing helmet off and she was met once again with the grinning face of Anakin. It was a contrast to see his head sat atop the dark suit she’d known as a symbol of terror. 

“Home sweet home,” he proclaimed cheerfully, and Padmé winced. How could he call such a place ‘home’? Anakin had never been one for interior design, but did the dark side really take all sense of style? “I know it’s a bit dark for your tastes, but I have an image to keep up.” 

“And where will I be staying?” Padmé asked, after scanning the room for another door and to no avail. 

“With me,” Vader said as if it was obvious, but Padmé looked at him as if he was crazy.

“I’d rather have my own space,” Padmé said delicately, and Vader frowned, but nodded anyway.

“If you insist,” he sighed. He put his helmet back on before leaving the room, a few minutes later and he returned. “You can asleep across the hall, but I’d like for you to spend at least some time here.” 

Padmé nodded, and took a seat on the large couch. There was no point in going to look at her sleep quarters now, so she’s get her required social activity out of the way. 

“You’re taller,” she started and he looked to her; it was the first time she’d initiated conversation. 

“It’s the prosthetics,” Vader told her, and Padmé nodded; she’d assumed so, twenty somethings typically didn’t have growth spurts. 

“Did you ask to be taller?” She asked with some hint of amusement, and Vader smiled wide.

“Well, I think I deserved it after getting both my legs chopped off,” he said, and Padmé shrugged. “What?”

“Obi Wan never told me what happened,” Padmé said quietly, and Vader looked away from her. 

“Well, obviously he was wrong about a few things,” Vader grumbled childishly, as if their fight had been a stubborn screaming match instead of a battle to the death. “It was a miracle I survived.” 

“He told me he’d made it quick,” She couldn’t face him as she said it. “That you hadn’t suffered.” 

“Well, he lied. As he always does.” Padmé wanted to protest, but knew better than to as Vader’s anger rose undeniably. “He left me there to die, screaming and crying. I think he thought I’d burn, luckily enough, the emperor saved me.” 

Padmé couldn’t help but feel bad for Vader then. He quite obviously felt betrayed by Obi Wan, who was only doing what was best for his friend, and Palpatine had convinced him he was some savior simply for making sure his most valuable servant didn’t die on him. 

“I know you’ll side with him no matter what I say, but if it weren’t for Obi Wan, we’d be happy together now,” Vader went on. “He’s the reason we’ve been separated all these years.” 

Vader set next to Padmé and took her hand into his. She watched as he placed a gentle kiss atop her hand. 

“I’ve missed you, angel,” he said with a slight smile. The old nickname felt like a punch in the gut. “I won’t let you go again, I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

Obi Wan watched as Luke and Leia played in the corner of the guest room that had been perfectly suited for children in the Organa home. 

He couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d seen the kids, when Padmé was watching over them as always, and the two seemed to have that on mind as well.

“Uncle Obi Wan,” Luke said from his place absentmindedly helping Leia build a large tower of blocks. “Have you seen mommy?”

“Yes,” Obi Wan lied. “She’s been very busy lately. But you have Auntie Breha to take care of you.” 

“I know,” Luke frowned.

“But can you tell mommy to come back soon?” Leia said, almost finishing her brothers thought. Obi Wan nodded.

“Of course,” he promised. He would bring Padmé back. He had to.

—

It was no doubt Padmé would hate the idea of Vader searching through her mind, but he really couldn’t help himself. Even if he attempted some self control, he knew it would inevitably break. 

So, he snuck into her room at night. Yes, Vader knew, this was the absolute worst way of doing it. It went against all the decency and respect he’d tried to give Padmé, but in sleep was when she was most vulnerable, and if there was anything he’d learned to do, it was prey on vulnerabilities.

Padmé looked somewhat peaceful in her slumber, the Sith noted. Still troubled, but much less tense than she had when they spoke before. She was more gorgeous than ever, even as the stresses of life made faint lines in her face, they seemed to only compliment her beauty. 

Vader shook head as if to clear the distraction, subconsciously he’d been reaching for her face, holding it in the same way he used to when he would kiss her. He sighed longingly, Padmé would be willing to give him that affection soon enough, he just needed patience.

The Sith took a seat at the chair across from where she lay and closed his eyes, searching the force. There were thousands in this ship, but all seemed dull in comparison to the shining light Padmé radiated into the force. He noted it seemed brighter than it had years ago, was it his leave that had caused the positive change? Or were his suspicions true, and Obi Wan had lied once again? 

Anger built in Vader with the thought of the Jedi he despised so much, but he pushed it away quickly as her light ran from his negative energy.

Finally, he could feel Padmé’s presence fully. She was scared, conflicted, and worried. Vader wanted to feel sorry for her turmoil, but he couldn’t help but rejoice. She wasn’t sure how to feel about him, quite obviously, and that was much better than what he had started with. 

Though the feeling was brief, Vader had felt pure hatred from Padmé when he had first took her from Obi Wan. I guess it was to be expected, he’d harmed the man after being given a decent amount of trust. But it was Obi Wan’s fault for being a fool. 

Now, though, Padmé felt no hatred towards Vader. Fear, disgust, and resentment, maybe, but he could deal with those. Especially seeing the sympathy and caring she possessed for him. Every time she saw the face she knew as Anakin, it became harder to resist him.

Vader felt as if he had won, too busy celebrating to care about anything else in her mind. What he had was enough, confirmation that there was hope for the two of them.

—

Padmé had never gotten the chance to fully appreciate Obi Wan teaching her to build her mental shields, but it seemed these last few days she was really understanding the importance of the skill.

She’d gone to bed quite early after arriving on the Executer, though she was exhausted, sleep was simply an excuse to get away from Vader. Padmé lay in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the ship creak and move. She wondered where they were going, if anywhere, and for what. Probably invasion, or another imperial terror. Would this be her new home? Her new life? Traveling from world to world watching destruction and making small talk with the very man who reigned it down upon the universe? 

A cough from outside Padmé’s door practically sent her heart flying out of her chest, but she knew it was simply the guards Vader had stationed by her door; to keep intruders out, obviously, but more so to keep her in. 

It was very late, almost morning, when her door creaked open. It didn’t take long for Padmé to realize it was Vader; none of his crew would take the risk of being punished for such misconduct, and the heavy thud of his boots was unmistakable.

At first, he seemed to just be watching her sleep. Anakin had often spent an hour or so sat next to their bed, watching her sleep as he meditated. Did Sith meditate? 

The thought of her husband kept Padmé from flinching when Vader’s hand came to caress her face. She wondered if he intended on kissing her, and if she’d hate it. She’d be mad, certainly, he should know better and always ask before doing such things, but she couldn’t help but think of how her husband used to wake her with sweet, delicate kisses. Vader was capable of that same delicacy, she knew. Padmé couldn’t help herself from those drifting thoughts.

But, suddenly, she was struck with a throbbing pain. The same stabbing that Obi Wan had explained as the feeling of a Sith poking around in your mind. Padmé couldn’t believe it. Vader was not a good man, she knew, but even the small bits of Anakin she saw in him should’ve kept him from invading her privacy in such a way. 

She tried to push him away, but to no avail. Vader was much stronger than even years of training could resist. Maybe Obi Wan would be able to keep him out completely, but Padmé had no chance, especially after allowing herself those vulnerable thoughts about him. 

Padmé knew he would be able to read her, but he would not be able to know anything about the children. She’d assure that even if the pressure Vader was putting her under killed her. He wouldn’t let it though, she knew. 

When he finally left the room, she passed out from exhaustion. 

—

Vader rose much earlier than Padmé. He started his day by checking on her, and then going to oversee drills done by his top troops. There were much more important things to be done, but he needed something he could do mindlessly. They’d been needing an inspection anyways; Vader could have no sloppy work when it came to these men. 

He watched as they ran through their exercises, but his mind drifted to other places. Padmé was sleeping on the same ship as him, living and breathing and everything. She was real, she was alive. Vader could jump for joy- if that were something Sith did. 

They could finally be together, as they always dreamed. He wouldn’t let Obi Wan or any of his other adversaries get in his way. Padmé would be happy with him, no matter what it took. 

Vader lost himself in daydreaming about her, the same way he had when he was just a padawan with a crush. Now, as a fully grown man, a Sith and the second most powerful person in the galaxy, he loved her more than ever. All he’d done, every accomplishment of the empire, was in her name. Padmé would see that, he thought, and would fall for him once again. 

“Sir?” A commander interrupted his thoughts quite rudely. 

“What?” Vader snapped, and the man flinched.

“You’ve been requested by the Emperor, he would like to see you now,” the commander stuttered out nervously.

Vader rolled his eyes. What a way to put a damper in his wonderful mood. Palpatine would surely send him on some useless mission that would take him away from his wife. He could practically snap the innocent commanders neck out of irritation. But it was probably better this way, he presumed, Palpatine would be suspicious if he radiated joy. 

The Sith begrudgingly got up from his seat and strut down the hall towards the conference room. As he walked, he thought of anything but Padmé. He thought of Obi Wan, and his weak attempts to keep Padmé safe. Vader thought of how she’d probably have died if she spent much longer with the incompetent Jedi. Vader thought of how he’d kill Obi Wan the next chance he got, or at least take his legs like he had him if Padmé still held such reservations. His priority was to not upset her, even if revenge had been first in his mind for so many years. 

The conference room was dark, lit only by the holoscreen where Palpatine’s ugly face already wait. 

“Lord Vader,” The emperor greeted him, and he nodded back.

“You wishes to see me, master?” 

“Yes,” Palpatine began, his lips smacking in a disgusting manner as he spoke. Vader was used to it, but he still couldn’t help but criticize the gremlin. It was his only joy. “I sense your frustration.”

“My troops have displeased me,” Vader explained. “But I’ve dealt with them accordingly.”

“I’d assumed it was the prisoner you’d taken aboard yesterday,” Palpatine said, and Vader pushed down a reaction. Of course the emperor would know, but it was fine. “She was an escort, I presume.”

“Yes,” Vader lied. Anger and disgust rose in him like bile, but he tried not to show it. The thought of degrading Padmé like that was infuriating. The entire institution was upsetting; it reminded him of his mother’s fears as a child, how she told them they were luckier than others for not being put into that sector of slavery. 

“Good,” the emperor smiled with his yellow, crooked teeth. “I had wondered when you would get past the death of the senator. It is one thing to let the sorrow feed your power, and another to let it consume you.” 

“Yes, master,” Vader agreed. He would be right, but Padmé was different, getting over her wasn’t possible, nor should it be. “I apologize for my weakness.”

“I would like you to travel to Alderaan,” Palpatine said, changing the subject, thankfully. “I am suspicious of the senator there, and would like him interrogated to the fullest extend.” 

“Of course, master.” Vader agreed, and the emperor nodded, signing off without another word.

Vader had noticed the emperor losing his wits. A younger Palpatine would not have let such a detail slip; Vader had not brought a guest to his flagship in his entire time serving the man, and he was unlikely he’d start out of no where. And, despite his best attempts at hiding it, Sidious was quite aware of how deeply Vader mourned his wife.

It was a relief that the man had had truly started seeing the effects of age — despite how much he tried to attempt to bend the will of the force to reverse it — while Vader would still have to keep an eye out, he could be much more reassured in keeping Padmé aboard his ship.

Vader found a commander and ordered them to set towards Alderaan. The trip would be slower than usual; they were on the other side of the galaxy and he had elected against taking a smaller ship. This was on purpose, of course. He needed more time with Padmé.


	6. Chapter 6

Obi Wan sat stumped at his desk. The old thing was rarely used; he didn’t do much work and he preferred reading in his lounge chair.

The Jedi stared at the map in front of him, it was almost complete, and showed Vader’s flagship, the Executer. He sighed seeing the guest room next to Vader’s; it was no doubt that Vader would keep Padmé there, if not in his own room. He’d briefly considered that she might be kept in the prison, but Vader would obviously want her as close as possible.

Obi Wan knew it shouldn’t, but frankly, the entire situation made him angry. Padmé had become his closest friend in the years after losing Anakin, and for him to now let her be taken by the shell of her late husband made him feel like a fool. 

There weren’t many people who truly knew Anakin, knew what kept him motivated and how he would act. Even after becoming the monster he was today, he still had the same driving forces. Bail had assumed Padmé would be kept locked away and in sickening conditions, but Obi Wan knew that Vader would never allow that. 

Besides him and Padmé, Obi Wan knew only one other who would be able to get inside Vader’s head. Ahsoka. 

While he may no longer be Anakin, her knowledge would be an advantage. Obi Wan sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face, he needed to get those children their mother back.

—

Padmé had been led to Vader’s room by an attendant only about an hour after she awoke and had breakfast. It seemed that the agreement to spend some of her time with him actually meant every waking hour. Still, his room was empty, and she was left with a holobook to read as she waited for his arrival.

After about three hours, Vader’s doors slid open to reveal his large form stomping in. Padmé didn’t even look up from her reading, she didn’t feel he was very worthy of that acknowledgment. 

Vader scurried around the room for a few minutes, changing and messing with his hair in the mirror, no worry that she may see him as he stripped and put on more comfortable attire.

Padmé couldn’t help herself though, and watched him from the corner of her eye as he changed his shirt. She would’ve gasped if she hadn’t mastered the art of composure all those years ago. Anakin had always had scars, more than the average person or Jedi, even, but the ones that littered Vader’s back made Padmé wonder how he was even alive.

The wounds seemed completely unhealed, yet old and scarring in many places as well. The tan skin he used to have was replaced by something much sicker and paler. Padmé couldn’t help the sorrow that filled her heart for her husband. 

If it had been three years ago, she would be holding him already. Telling him that she loved him and feeling safe in each other’s arms. 

But it wasn’t three years ago, and it never would be again.

Vader took a seat next to Padmé again, and quietly watched as she read. He seemed to be trying to read along with her, but her pace was much too quick for him. Finally, he gave up and just leaned back.

“How has your day been?” Vader asked.

“Alright,” Padmé answered quickly as she continued to flip through the book. 

“Are you hungry?” 

“Sure,” she said. 

“Great!” Vader smiled, “We can have lunch together.”

“Never mind.” He frowned again, but still picked up his comm.

“Bring me a lunch platter,” Vader ordered in the low voice that Padmé hated. It would almost be a comedic line if it didn’t remind her of how far gone her husband was. She felt even more disgust as the attendant on the other line answered back, his voice breaking in fear. Vader only seemed satisfied by his menacing presence. She scoffed, of course he would. 

“What?” He asked at her annoyance. 

“Nothing, my lord,” Padmé replied, mocking the staff he ordered around. Vader pouted to himself at this. 

“Well, I’m sorry for offending you,” he said, “but I have an image to keep up.”

Padmé glared at him. Some image, she thought. 

Vader ignored her and only moved closer, sliding his arm around her shoulders. Padmé stiffened under his touch, and he frowned slightly. 

“I love you,” he said quietly, and she looked away from him, out the large window that covered an entire wall. The stars were moving quickly by; they were in lightspeed.

“Where are we going?” Padmé asked, changing the subject abruptly.

“I have business in Alderaan,” Vader said simply, not realizing the extent of his words until she flinched away from him. Her movement was quite small, but he obviously noticed. Padmé cursed herself silently. She continued to look away from him, but she could feel as his eyes began to burn into her. She felt the nagging feeling at her thoughts again, and forced her children and Obi Wan out of her mind. She couldn’t jeopardize them anymore than she already had. 

“Is there something wrong, angel?” Vader asked, but his voice was no longer soft with the nickname. His tone was laced with venom and ill intent. Padmé watched as his eyes turned from blue to yellow, and his grip on her grew tighter. 

“No,” Padmé insisted, but her voice was strained. She was strong against any other threat, but Vader’s was unique. How could such a monster be her husband? And how was she supposed to ignore the fact that he was? “I just haven’t been to a planet that wasn’t Coruscant in years.”

“Then why are you afraid?” He questioned, and Padmé turned to face him once again. 

“You’re scaring me,” Padmé admitted, and Vader faltered, guilt shining in his eyes as he saw the terror across her face. “Your eyes- Sith aren’t the most pleasant people.” 

Vader looked away from her quickly, blinking and shaking his head. When he looked back at her, his eyes were blue once again. Padmé sighed in relief, though she really hadn’t meant to. She should know that Vader was Vader no matter i’d his eyes were gold or blue, but she couldn’t help but pretend he was Anakin at times. And now, it felt as if he had returned to her. 

“I’m so sorry, my love,” Vader said sincerely as he gathered Padmé in his arms. She knew she should push him away, but she couldn’t help but accept his hug. For a moment, she could forget he wasn’t truly Anakin.

Vader buried his face into Padmé’s neck, and she could feel his hot tears against her skin. His arms were tight and protective around her. Padmé had seen Anakin cry many times, he wasn’t afraid of being vulnerable around her, but she never expected such a display from a Sith. 

“It’s okay,” Padmé reassured him, forgetting her reservations. 

“I never meant to frighten you,” Vader looked up; he was teary eyed and bright red, like he’d been crying for hours. He pressed his forehead against hers so they were only about an inch away. Padmé held her breath. 

“I’m meant to protect you,” Vader breathed against her lips. She moved her hand to cup his face, meaning to gently push him away, but she just couldn’t. “I won’t fail you again.” 

“Oh, Anakin,” Padmé said sadly, only catching her slip up long after it was said. Vader must’ve caught it though, as he closed the gap between them before she’d even finished speaking. 

His lips worked against hers as familiarly as a drive home, and any attempt she was meaning to make at stopping him turned into her pulling him closer. 

Padmé mentally yelled at herself, but made no move to stop him as he held her face, or slipped a hand behind her neck. 

Luckily — or unluckily, she wasn’t sure — a knock at a door interrupted Vader. At first, he barely moved away from Padmé, but then there was another knock, and another, and finally he broke away. She took a breath of relief, and hoped he was too distracted to punish whatever fool had interrupted him. 

Vader returned with a tray of lunch; bantha steak on a bed of something green Padmé didn’t care to identify. 

He sat beside her and leaned in once more, but she turned her head away from him.

“We should eat,” Padmé smiled as best she could, and Vader nodded reluctantly. 

—

Obi Wan had been somewhat surprised to see Ahsoka as innocently joyful as she’d been when she first became Anakin’s padawan, but the twins did seem to bring that happiness to people. 

Maturity had obviously taken its toll, but it was still as if she hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw her; especially as she laughed at Luke, who was grabbing at her face. 

“They sure made some cuties,” Ahsoka chuckled, and Obi Wan nodded. Leia and Luke had finally settled down to eat some pear slices.

“They’re Padmé’s pride and joy,” Obi Wan said, and Ahsoka looked to him.

“Where is she?” She asked, looking around before furrowing her brow. “Or is that the problem you’ve called me here to address?”

“Always intuitive,” Obi Wan smiled sadly, and began to walk out of the twins’ room. “Follow me.” 

The pair walked down the long hall of the palace, past portraits of Bail and Breha and other Alderaanian royalty, towards Obi Wan’s office. The room was small and simple; his only decoration being a few pictures of friends. Padmé, the twins, Satine, Ashoka had all made the cut. The two sat on his reading lounge.

“Padmé and I had taken an unapproved mission to Coruscant,” Obi Wan started.  
“One that involved direct contact with Darth Vader. It was dangerous, but we both thought we understood the risks. She was taken.”

Obi Wan could already feel Ahsoka’s judging glare on him, but she knew she couldn’t talk. If it had been her protecting Padmé rather than him, she probably would’ve done the same exact thing. Neither agreed with her confinement. 

“There are things we found out,” Obi Wan took a breath, “Things I haven’t told Bail, or the alliance at all.”

“What are you saying?” Ahsoka questioned him, almost a bit angrily. She hadn’t been on good terms with Obi Wan the last they spoke, after finding out what happened with Anakin, and she clearly wasn’t happy now either. 

“Ahsoka, you don’t understand-“ Obi Wan began, but she didn’t let him finish. 

“No, you don’t understand!” Ahsoka got up from her seat now, pacing the room. “You’re withholding secrets that could keep those children from being motherless! And as awful as he was in his final hours, you’re failing Anakin. Our brother.” 

Obi Wan felt as if he’d been stabbed directly in the heart then; how on earth was he supposed to break this to Ahsoka?

“Please, have a seat,” He said tiredly, and despite all odds, she listened.

“Vader took Padmé,” Obi Wan continued, “Not to torture her for secrets, or to exploit her political power, or anything of that sort. I’d doubt the emperor even knows of her existence.”

Ahsoka frowned, confused. “What did he take her for then?”

“Well, wouldn’t you want your wife back?” Obi Wan asked.

“What?” Ahsoka looked at him like he was insane, but a few moments later, she seemed as if she was about to lose her lunch. “You don’t mean..”

“Anakin survived,” Obi Wan finished her thought. “At least, his body did. I wouldn’t call that man Anakin anymore, he’s still Vader. It’s no different now than it was before we knew. He’s still the monster you see on the holonet.”

“What do you mean it’s no different?” Ahsoka rubbed her hand over her face. “He- He’s a monster, but at the very least he’s protecting Padmé.”

“Don’t let anything about him fool you,” Obi Wan warned. “That’s how I lost her in the first place. He looks like Anakin, sounds like him, even acts like him at times; but he’s still Vader. He would’ve killed me if it weren’t for Padmé, he sure wanted to.” 

Ahsoka shook her head, and Obi Wan sighed as he watched tears brim at her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka,” Obi Wan said genuinely, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Anakin is dead, and you must accept it once again. Vader will kill either of us if we get in his way.”

Ahsoka wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded firmly. “That’s why we must kill him first.”


	7. Chapter 7

Padmé had been mentally punching herself all day for the kiss she’d shared with Vader. She tried to tell herself it was to distract him from the way she’d reacted to his news of Alderaan, or because he’d performed some Sith trick, or something beyond her control, but she knew none of that was it. Truthfully, in that moment, she saw her husband. Hurt and upset and in need of comfort. He was the man she loved; or at least, he looked like the man she had loved all those years ago.

Though she’d always prided herself on decisiveness, Padmé wasn’t sure if the man she was staying with was her husband or not. She reminded herself how believing Vader was Anakin left Obi Wan, but that method had began to dull. 

Even in harsher moves such as that she was somewhat reminded of Anakin. Though her husband had never been a cruel man, he was known to be impulsive and a bit protective. He didn’t kill Obi Wan, and though that was a bit of an awful defense, she still found herself using it. 

Padmé considered giving it a try, treating Vader like she had treated Anakin. It felt like a reward for a man who didn’t deserve it, but sitting here awkwardly felt like a punishment to a woman who didn’t deserve it. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Most of all, she was scared of someone finding out she’d accepted a monster as her husband. 

She wondered if Obi Wan had told Bail about Anakin. Probably. Did they assume Padmé was happy to have him back? What if they just left her there? Padmé shook the thought from her head. 

Maybe it was best to try and pretend everything was normal, maybe it would make things easier.

—

Obi Wan could tell Bail was baring awful news the second he even came close to the man; even without force sensitivity he’s sure he would’ve been able to feel it radiating off the senator.

“What’s wrong?” Obi Wan asked, his voice hushed even in the privacy of Bail’s office.

“Vader is making a visit,” Bail said unhappily, “An inspection.”

“He doesn’t know about the children,” Obi Wan insisted quickly, knowing it was what both of their minds went to first. Bail looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if to question it. “Padmé would die before she gave that info up.” 

Bail nodded. It was true, or would’ve been if not given the circumstances. Circumstances that Bail was still blind to, and would hopefully stay blind to. Obi Wan couldn’t explain the necessity to hide Vader’s true identity, but something told him it was important. Luckily, Ahsoka agreed. They were to be the only ones who knew the truth. 

“I just hope she’s alive,” Bail sighed, leaning back in his chair with an exhausted expression.

“I know she is,” Obi Wan said truthfully, “I can feel it.”

—

Vader was preparing himself for bed when his automatic doors slid open. He prepared to see whatever droid was being sent in, no life forms were allowed in his quarters without permission, but when he turned, he was greeted by Padmé.

His wife dressed in one of the expensive nightgowns he’d provided her soon after her arrival. It had only been a little over a week, but it was easy to get things quickly when you were Darth Vader. The dress was reminiscent of the ones she’d wear to sleep durning their marriage; so fashionable and gorgeous you’d think it was a dress to be worn out, but it was only ever him and a few droids who’d see it.

He kind of always liked that, being the only one to see Padmé in such a gorgeous gown. Of course, the end of the day, it was more for herself than it ever was for him, but maybe he liked that too. His wife was his, but much more so, he was hers, she was her own. Still, Vader knew there was always a bit of intent on making him happy as well, and he appreciated it more than he could say. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Padmé said as she lean by the door frame. Vader only looked at her with his mouth agape, and she smiled, amused. “I was wondering if you had anymore holobooks I could read.”

“I’ll order them,” Vader agreed and starting walking towards the comm on his wall immediately, but she stopped him, placing a hand on his bare arm. It was a simple touch, but he’d only felt her skin through his thick leather gloves since her arrival, he missed her touch more than he’d ever imaged. She moved her hand quickly, though.

“Uh, it’s okay,” Padmé blushed, breaking her eye contact with him. “It can wait till morning.” 

Vader didn’t listen though, and quickly commed an attendant to put the request in anyways, ordering some tea as well. His voice was still low and harsh, but he tried not to make any unnecessary death threats.

“Usually, I’d just have Threepio get these things for me,” Padmé shook her head, taking a seat at the edge of Vader’s large bed.

“Threepio?” Vader questioned in shock, “You still have him?” 

“Of course,” Padmé laughed as if that was obvious. “He’s a good companion, if a bit chatty. Besides, you made him, and after I thought you were gone, having him near made things easier.”

Vader noted how she talked as if him and Anakin were the same, something she’d avoided before. He smiled. 

“I still have Artoo,” Vader told her, and she perked up. “He’s good on missions, and the only good conversationalist around here.”

“Threepio has missed him,” Padmé chuckled as she imagined Vader speaking binary to the little astromech he adored so much. It was something she caught him doing often before, and she wondered if he still did. “Do you still speak binary to him?”

“No, not really,” He frowned, but noticing the quick damper in the mood, changed the subject. “You know, despite all the bickering, I’d say those droids love each other as much as two machines can.” 

“I’d have to agree,” Padmé said. 

“Speak of the devil,” Vader laughed at the little droid came zooming in, a tea kettle and books stacked atop his head. 

Artoo beeped happily when he saw Padmé, and she clapped her hands in delight. The astromech did circles around the room.

“Careful, careful, Artoo,” Vader warned, snatched the tea pot and the books off his tray. “He’s not used to delivering drinks and such, but I thought you’d like to see him.” 

“I’ve missed you, Artoo,” Padmé grinned down at him, and he beeped back. “What’s he saying?”

“He’s happy to see you,” Vader translated. A few more passionate beeps. “And he’s mad I didn’t tell him you were here.” 

“Ani never has been very good at communicating,” Padmé sighed happily, before turning to her husband. Vader didn’t even flinch at the nickname. “We used to say you spoke binary better than basic.” 

“I can’t say you’re wrong,” He admitted, and Artoo beeped in complaint. “He’s saying I don’t even talk to him anymore.”

“Well, that’s rude,” Padmé scolded, and Vader shrugged. 

“Maybe we could fetch Threepio from wherever you were staying before,” He suggested, and Padmé’s eyes widened briefly. 

“No, it’s okay,” She insisted. Vader tilted his head a bit, confused, but let it go. 

Padmé poured the two of them their tea. For about an hour she spoke with Artoo, Vader translating everything, though he never seemed to get tired of it. Finally, the droid sped off with their cups to go charge for the rest of the night. 

“You were right,” Padmé said as Vader wrapped a blanket over her shoulders; she always complained space was too cold for her, but refused to wear anything warm. “He does seem to be the best conversationalist around.”

“Better than me?” Vader asked, feigning hurt. 

“Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answers to,” Padmé warned, and he pouted. His stupid face made her want to kiss him more than ever, but she settled to peck him on the cheek. 

“Would you sleep here?” Vader requested, he nodded to a couch in the corner of the room. “I could sleep on the couch, I just want to stay in the same room as you.”

“It’s okay,” Padmé said, though she sounded hesitant. “We can share the bed, it’s big.”

Vader felt his face get red, but nodded. He excused himself to the fresher to change into sleep clothes. 

—

Padmé pressed her hand against the cold glass of the window. They had exited hyperspace, but were still no where near Alderaan. She assumed it would be at least a day or two before they actually arrived, especially at the slow speed they were taking. 

She wasn’t sure what she was doing, agreeing to stay with him, especially to this capacity. Padmé had wanted to deny his request completely, but instead she found herself agreeing to more than asked. It fed into the plan to try and live normally, even if just for a day, but she wondered where her patience had went in that moment. 

Vader came out of the fresher in baggy, warm looking sleep wear. Padmé thanked the force he hadn’t dressed half naked like he used to. Padmé had never been able to deal with the extreme cold or heat, Naboo was very temperate and forgiving in its weather. Unlike her home planet, though, the planet Anakin had grown up on, Tatooine, was burning hot in the day and freezing in the nights; it practically made her sick the few times she’d been there for more than a day. 

And so, Anakin never seemed to complain about the weather around him, which he so happily showed by wearing layers of clothing on the hottest planets and only light shorts on cold, windy Coruscanti nights. 

Maybe Vader was different though, as he dressed appropriately for the frost of space. More likely, though, he was just sparing Padmé the awkwardness. 

“You should decorate your room,” Padmé commented as she sat on the bed and pulled the covers over herself. Vader still stood at his dresser table, fidgeting with some gadget she assumed he was fixing up. All over his room were little projects she couldn’t quite identify, but it didn’t surprise her. 

“You can if you’d like,” Vader replied, his mind so obviously far away as he hyper-focused on his task. Padmé was content to just watch as he fiddled around. “You know I don’t have an eye for those things, but I always liked what you did.” 

“I guess that could be fun,” she agreed as she took a brief look around the room, already picturing what changes she made. If she was gonna be her for a while, she might as well make it to her liking.

Padmé had decided it was no where near safe to allow herself to be rescued while in Alderaan; she’d have to resist any attempts, though she hoped they had enough foresight to know she wouldn’t want to endanger the children. 

“Do you still avoid sleep with those little projects,” Padmé asked, bringing her thoughts back to the moment. “You used to be up until sunrise unless I pestered you.”

“And I always told you you sound like my mother when you scold me about it,” Vader laughed, mocking her lightheartedly. Still, he set the electronics on the table and climbed into bed. “Though I don’t mind it, I probably need someone to keep me in line.”

“How did you even survive without me all this years?” Padmé joked, but quickly realized the extent of her words. 

“I didn’t,” Vader smiled at her sadly, and Padmé’s eyes flickered away. “I know that you went on living, and so did I, but I might as well have been a ghost all these years.” 

“I could say the same,” Padmé admitted. “I had people there for me-“ She bit her tongue, but from the brief anger in Vader’s eyes, she knew his mind only went to Obi Wan. Thank the force. 

“You were always more independent than me,” Vader laughed. He laid down besides Padmé, leaving about a foot of space between them. “What have you been doing all this time?” 

Padmé’s throat closed. She’d prepared her answer, and was surprised he hadn’t asked sooner, but answering was still just as nerve wracking. 

“I’d been living in Coruscant, barely going out. Actually, those sessions were the first time I’d left the house in years,” Padmé told him. It wasn’t a complete lie. She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I was hoping to find an in to the rebellion, and I thought that maybe if I had intel, they’d seek me out.”

Vader huffed, but he didn’t seem angry. More amused.

“I thought something along those lines,” he said, lying on his side to face her. “Though I’m surprised Obi Wan didn’t join the rebellion as soon as the empire rose up.”

“You don’t give him enough credit,” Padmé argued. She knew she was pushing it a bit; Obi Wan was a sore spot for Vader. Still, she couldn’t help but defend the man who’d become her best friend over the last few years. “He felt as if he owed it to you - to Anakin - to protect me.” 

“I still don’t believe he thought I was dead.” Padmé sighed quietly, but didn’t argue. She knew nothing would change his mind about that. “I did get rid of the rat that fed you that information.”

“Did you have to tell me that?” She said sadly. Another death to be responsible for, as if the scare tactics the emperor used hadn’t told her enough about what her husband had done. 

“I’m sorry,” Vader said honestly, no doubt looking at her like a lost puppy. She refused to make eye contact with him. 

Padmé felt the bed shift, and looked up, expecting to see her husband getting up to go sulk on the couch. Instead, she was met with his mop of dark blonde hair right under her nose. He’d curled himself towards her as best he could without touching her.

She rolled her eyes, and wrapped an arm around him. As if he’d been waiting for the invitation, which he probably had, Vader wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, and buried his face into her neck. Padmé tried to be upset, but all she could do was melt into it. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, tickling her neck so she shivered. “I know you don’t like it here much, but one day we’ll settle somewhere. Whatever planet you’d like.” 

Padmé only hummed her agreement sleepily. Thoughts of escape seemed to leave her mind as she pictured it; they could live in the Lake Country on Naboo, with Luke and Leia. She hadn’t gotten to show her babies Naboo yet; they were never permitted to leave Alderaan. 

“We can have a second chance, angel,” Vader spoke happily, even as a sense of sadness crept on his face. “We can try for children again, have a family. How does that sound?”

He lifted his face from her neck to gage her reaction, but Padmé was already asleep. Vader pressed a kiss to her forehead before laying down to drift off himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Vader woke up with Padmé in his arms, her head pressed against his chest, breathing softly as she lay in a deep sleep. It was quite early, as the clock said, but the window showed the same constant night of space. 

He wondered how long they could lay like this. If he could, he might keep the moment forever. Vader loved Padmé for much more than she showed in sleep, but even if their conversation was good, he always found himself scared she’d slip away again. Now, though, with her resting safely in his arms, he felt as if she couldn’t get away from him. He felt safe. 

Vader was terrified of her running away. So terrified, in fact, that he kept them in space much longer than necessary; there wasn’t very far Padmé could go when they were on his ship. He knew he couldn’t keep her there forever, though. He didn’t have the heart to force her, or rather, he had too much heart.

He thought maybe, if he kept her long enough, showed her everything he could do for her, Padmé would want to stay. It seemed to be working. Here she was, in his arms, deliberately. Vader smiled. 

Of course, something had to ruin it. His alarm beeped loudly, and though he jumped to stop it, Padmé had awoke easily at the sound and the movement. She’d always been a light sleeper. 

“I’m sorry,” Vader apologized once he managed to shut off the alarm. Padmé looked at him, quite confused and tired; he did his best not to laugh at her expression. 

“Is it morning?” she asked groggily, and he nodded. 

“I know it’s kind of hard to tell on here,” Vader said. Padmé was still nestled close to him, wrapped in his arms, and so he spoke quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Padmé strained her neck to look over her shoulder out the window, shifting in his arms. He restrained himself from holding her any tighter as she moved. “I forgot about that.”

She seemed sad for a moment, but then laughed at her own forgetfulness. Padmé had never been forgetful, Vader could attest to that, but there were things she tried to forget. She had tried very hard to forget Cordé’s death when they’d first met, and she’d been successful for a while, but it never lasted long. He remembered that she had broke down in tears in his arms on one of their first nights as husband and wife. 

“So, what do you have to do today?” Padmé asked, taking Vader away from his thoughts. 

“Normal stuff,” he shrugged, and she glared at him. It was no doubt she was biting her tongue. “I’d rather just spend the day with you.”

Padmé softened her gaze then and smiled slightly. She looked somewhat uncomfortable, still, but he did the best to ignore it. He just couldn’t shake the fact that she acted as if his touch burned her. 

“I have plenty to read,” Padmé said, delicately pushing that he go along with his day. Vader did his best not to frown, and reluctantly got out of bed. 

—

Obi Wan sighed heavily as he left Bail’s office. The senator had called him in early to discuss Padmé, and though it hadn’t gone quite as expected, couldn’t say he was surprised by the news.

Bail regretted to inform Obi Wan that any rescue attempts for Padmé while Vader was on Coruscant were strictly prohibited. If the empire didn’t know the planet had been conspiring with the rebels, that kind of attempt would certainly set them off the the rebellions presence. The jedi didn’t like it, but he understood, and agreed, even if he knew things may be different if Bail knew who Vader really was. What he really didn’t look forward to was telling Ahsoka.

He’d requested she meet him in his office directly after his meeting with Bail, and when he arrived, there she was, uncharacteristically punctual. 

“What did Bail say?” Ahsoka asked, cutting straight to the point as soon as the two had entered Obi Wan’s office. “You didn’t tell him about Anakin, did you?”

“Of course not,” Obi Wan said, taking a seat. 

“Something’s wrong, though,” She insisted, squinting at him as if to scold him. He closed his eyes and held his face in his hand.

“Bail has ordered me not to make any attempts to rescue Padmé,” Obi Wan told her. 

“You’re not going to listen, are you?” Ahsoka scoffed, and upon his silence, she looked at him as if he’d told her he was thinking of joining the empire himself. 

“It’s what’s best for the children,” Obi Wan said.

“What if Padmé tells him about the kids?” She argued, and he looked at her doubtfully. They both knew that wasn’t likely. “What if he forces it out of her?” 

“We both know Padmé would die before giving up the children,” Ahsoka rolled her eyes, not out of doubt for the woman she’d always respected to much, but for the cowardly jedi she saw before her. Anakin would’ve never given up so easily. Maybe that’s what scared her now. “Besides, if we take her it’s almost certain that Vader will search the palace and take the children. It’s for the best she stays with him for now.” 

Ahsoka thought quietly for a moment. She didn’t like being so in the dark. They had no idea what was happening to Padmé. Was she being kept locked up? Driven insane by solitary confinement? Or was it worse? Was she being tortured for information? Punished for not accepting Vader as her husband? Had she been playing wife to the commander of the empires army just to keep herself from being killed? Whatever was happening, the Togruta prayed she would be returned home safely. 

“Could we get into contact with her?” Ahsoka asked finally. Obi Wan stroked his beard, humming.

“That could be possible, though I think it’s best we ask Bail’s permission first.” Ahsoka felt a bit better with that. Maybe if they could get into contact with her while she was on Coruscant they could all rest a bit easier. 

Maybe she could tell Luke and Leia their mother was safe without being sure whether or not she was lying. 

—

Vader knelt in front of the holo of his master, his head bowed and eyes glued to the shinny black floor.

“Lord Vader,” Palpatine spit his name, “You’ve yet to arrive at Coruscant. Is there a reason for the delay.”

“Technical difficulties,” Vader said simply, looking up to see the emperors sagging face. The mans breath was ragged and labored; it took everything in the young Sith not to laugh at this. The empire was so close to his grasp. “Incompetence among some of my staff. I was made to believe you’d been informed.” 

“I want you to report to me directly after you’ve interrogated the senator,” He paused, a snarly grin growing on his face. “In person.” 

“As you wish, master.” Vader agreed, not giving Palpatine the satisfaction of a reaction. He knew what an in person meeting meant. Punishment, the awful lightning the emperor inflicted upon Vader until he was just close enough to death. He’d never kill him though; without Vader, the few remaining Jedi would not be kept at bay. Besides, death was much too merciful. 

—

Alderaan was beautiful from afar, all bright green and blues, with white swirls of clouds. Really, it reminded Padmé of Naboo. 

She stared longingly out the large window in Vader’s room, waiting for him to come speak to her. Padmé planned to tell him she wasn’t feeling well, and she couldn’t come down with him. 

Though she wished she could see the planet again, she knew it was the best. Besides, she didn’t know if she could hold herself together being so close to the children. Or if they could handle being so close to her. Often, they could sense when she was close.

Padmé smiled at the thought of the twins, but quickly, it faded. She shouldn’t allow herself to think about them. Vader still thought they’d died, at his hand no less. She couldn’t imagine what he’d do had he found out otherwise. Take them, firstly, then kill Bail, and probably Breha and the rest of people in the palace for hiding his children from him. And that was the best case scenario. 

She gulped nervously, shaking away the thoughts from her head. Everything in her wanted to go to Alderaan, but she couldn’t. 

Vader entered the room, his heavy steps giving him away easily. R2 followed behind him. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, placing his hand on Padmé’s shoulder. His grip was tight, she noticed, though it often was.

“I think,” she hesitated, and he raised his eyebrows expectantly. “I feel sick, I think I should stay behind.”

“Oh,” Vader said, he seemed relieved at first, but he scrunched up his face. It was an odd move, Padmé knew, it was obvious she didn’t like being on the ship. “Should I get a medical droid? We can postpone the trip for a day.” 

“No, no,” Padmé shook her head. She didn’t want a medical droid, she didn’t trust anything from the Empire examining her. “I don’t wanna burden you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Vader insisted, and he softly guided her to sit on the bed. “I just don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.”

Had it been three years earlier, Padmé would’ve rolled her eyes at that. Anakin never failed to be overprotective. 

“You won’t go without me, will you?”

“Padmé,” Vader whined, and she couldn’t help but smile a bit. “You know I only want to protect you. I won’t lose you again.”

“I’ll go,” Padmé agreed finally, though she screamed at herself internally. On one hand, she’d been giving into him too much than she wouldn’t liked, but on the other, she knew this trip was a direct order from the emperor. If she didn’t go, Vader wouldn’t go, and for that he’d surely be punished. And she couldn’t bare that. 

“Thank you,” he smiled, and leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She was taken aback, but she didn’t mind it. Padmé placed her fingertips over where he’d kissed, and Vader’s eyes drifted down to the same spot. His eyes widened.

“I didn’t mean to overstep,” He apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Padmé told him softly, she looked away from him before adding, “I like it.”

“Really?” He had leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck, but she couldn’t push him away. His hand crept up to cup her face, and suddenly she was staring into his blue eyes. The ones she’d married. 

“Anakin-“ Padmé started, but she shut her mouth quick. Vader, not Anakin, she reminded herself. “Vader-“

This time he was the one to cut her off, “No, call me Anakin. Or anything besides that. It breaks my heart to hear you call me that.”

“You’re not him anymore,” Padmé dropped her eyes from his; she couldn’t bare to see him hurt, but she couldn’t give in again either. “My husband is dead.”

“I’m still your husband,” Vader sounded almost angry, but she knew he was just hurt. Still, she flinched at his tone. “Can’t you see? I want to deny it as much as you do, but we both know the truth.”

“What do you mean?” She looked back to him, and tears welled in his eyes.

“That part of me, Vader, he’s dying,” Vader, Anakin maybe, whoever he was, pressed his lips against Padmé’s cheek as he sobbed silently. “He’s been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life.”

Padmé felt as he spoke the words into her cheek, and she knew her husband was the one saying them. Vader, the man who’d taken her, who’d hurt Obi Wan, who’d she been so afraid of, he was still there, she couldn’t deny it; but Anakin, he was there too. 

“I love you, Ani,” she whispered, and she almost hoped he didn’t hear it. 

“I love you too,” Anakin said, “More than anything.”


	9. Chapter 9

Anakin kept Padmé close to him as the ship landed on Alderaan. He once again wore the suit he’d explained was for public image, but she mostly kept her eyes away from his head, trying to pretend he looked the same as he had in his room. Anakin Skywalker, a war hero, was believed to be dead, and having the general of imperial army look exactly like him wasn’t ideal. 

The hood covering her head almost blew back as they walked down the ramp, but Anakin, almost as if he had sensed it, pulled it back over. It was no doubt Padmé would be recognized had anyone saw her, especially Bail, so he had made it clear she was to keep it on at all times.

Padmé’s heart sunk as she watched as Bail and Breha approached them. Their faces showed no sign of distress, a politicians best skill, but she knew they must be conflicted. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to regret how tightly she held Anakin’s gloved hand. 

“Lord Vader, lovely to see you again,” Bail nodded, and Breha greeted the same. The senator shifted his gaze to Padmé, who’s identity remained concealed. “And this is?”

“None of your concern,” Anakin said forcefully, in the same low voice he used with his attendants. It was hard to believe he was the same man, especially considering the emotionless mask of a helmet he wore in public. 

“Of course,” Bail smiled before gesturing towards the palace and beginning to lead the four of them.

—

Obi Wan watched from the window as Vader’s ship landed. Ahsoka stood beside him; she was to stay by his side until the guests had left Alderaan, a precaution she’d rolled her eyes at. 

“Is that her?” Ahsoka asked, pointing to the hooded figure that stood besides Vader. 

“It must be,” Obi Wan replied, he looked to the young woman beside him. “Yes, her presence is bright as ever, somehow.”

“She’s strong,” Ahsoka said simply. Of course Padmé’s light wouldn’t of dimmed, she doubted that was possible. She squinted her eyes together, trying to get a better look at the two. “She’s holding his hand.”

“She is his wife,” Obi Wan shrugged, though he knew it wasn’t quite that simple.

“She’s Anakin’s wife,” Ahsoka huffed. 

“Well, he believes Padmé is his wife,” They watched as Bail and Breha began to lead Vader and the hooded figure into the palace. “And Sith lords are notoriously stubborn.” 

“Vader’s presence is dim,” Ahsoka noted, changing the subject. She didn’t particularly like thinking about Padmé being forced to pretend that man was her husband. 

“We’re masking our presence,” Obi Wan looked to the cribs in the corner of the room, where the twins slept silently. “As well as the twins. I’m sure he can hide his.” 

“I guess so,” She sighed. 

“Don’t worry,” he put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Breha will tell us as soon as she gets Padmé alone.”

“If she can.”

—

The palace halls stretched far into the home, and were lined with real doors made of real Alderaanian wood, unlike the mostly automatic metal ones aboard Vader’s ship.

As they walked, the Sith demanded every door be opened for him, to which he would step inside briefly to inspect the area. Padmé held his arm as he did so, though she somewhat struggled to keep in step with the large strides he took.

Though they all tried to hide it, Vader could feel the fear and anxiety oozing off of all of them; even Padmé, who’d previously shown some of the strongest mental shields he’d seen in a non force sensitive being. He assumed she’d just relaxed a bit after their interaction in his flagship, and the thought made him smile slightly. 

Every door was as boring as the last: offices mostly, a bedroom or two, a small library, a kitchen, nothing seemed out of place. Alderaan was not supposed to know of his visit until the day of, though it wasn’t unlikely the information got leaked. He couldn’t find it in himself to mind, though. Frankly, Vader didn’t care much about Alderaan. 

In one particular room, an office, he found a large holo hanging on the wall; all of the senators lined up in a very school holoday fashion. Vader didn’t look at it for long at all, but it wasn’t hard to find what he was looking for; Padmé stood next to Bail, smiling softly. 

As they stepped out of the office, Vader felt Padmé squeeze his hand reassuringly. 

The group continued down the hall, and finally, they’d reached the end. Stairs went up and down both ways.

“Upstairs is bedrooms and sitting rooms,” Bail told Vader. “Downstairs is kitchens, storage, maid quarters, and the like.” 

“I’ll see the downstairs first,” he decided, and Bail led them down the stairs. Breha, though, stayed at the top.

“Are you coming, dear?” Bail asked.

“I feel a bit ill,” Breha’s eyes flickered upstairs, though briefly, and Vader’s interest peaked. He pushed past the queen and up the stairs.

Bail ran up behind him, but didn’t say a word. No one did, though Padmé’s steps became much slower. 

Vader stopped in his tracks at the top of the stairs. It was hard to focus, he felt almost lightheaded, overwhelmed. 

“Who’s up here?” He asked, no, demanded an answer from Bail.

“Our children,” Bail said quickly, “A few staff members.” 

“I’ll have to see and speak to all of them,” Next to him, Padmé shifted uncomfortably. Vader suddenly felt she had the urge to run from him, he held her closer. “Leave us.”

“But the children are so young they’ll need their mother,” Breha insisted, but Vader wouldn’t hear it.

“I said leave us,” he ordered, and hesitantly, the couple walked back down the stairs.

Vader led Padmé into the closest room and shut the door. He wasn’t supposed to, but he lifted the menacing helmet off his head so he could properly speak to her. She brought down her cloak. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, his tone very different to the one he’d used with Bail and Breha. 

“Nothing,” Padmé said quickly, straightening out her simple blouse with her hands. “I just haven’t been on Alderaan for years. Bail and Breha were my friends, it’s hard to be around them.” 

“I’m sorry,” Vader apologized, a pang of guilt ran through him. “I should’ve thought of that.”

“It’s no worry.” 

“Let’s just go see the children and staff,” Vader began to walk out of the room, but Padmé grabbed his arm.

“Must you interrogate the children,” she pleaded. “Breha said they’re young, they won’t know anything.”

“I understand if you have some sensitivity towards the matter,” Vader couldn’t look at her now, not after the reminder of what he’d done to his own child. “But it is necessary. I’m not the monster I was, I promise you.”

“You misunderstand me-“

“I understand perfectly,” Vader said before she could finish. He grabbed her arm and led her out of the room.

The two checked every room together, until they finally came upon the nursery.

It was decorated with hanging stars, and large portraits on the walls. The scenes were somewhat familiar; beautiful countryside and glassy lakes. It reminded Vader of Naboo. No, it was Naboo.

In the corner of the room were two cribs, one a baby girl with dark hair, and the other a baby boy with bright, blonde hair. The twins slept, but they kicked, restless in their slumber, as if someone was keeping them asleep.

“They must be adopted,” Padmé commented on their appearance; it was obvious the two weren’t the Organa’s biological children. “They’re obviously too young to tell you anything. Let’s go.”

Vader ignored her. He approached the crib, and watched the two babies intently. He waved a hand over the two, effortlessly waking them from their forced sleep. Two sprung up almost automatically, standing and holding on the bars of the cribs. 

“Who are you?” The girl asked, scrunching up her nose. 

“Where’s Auntie Breha?” The boy spoke slower than his sister, and they were both small for their age. 

“Auntie?” Vader turned to Padmé, she was turned away from the kids, but his movement turned their attention to her instantly.

“Mommy!” They both said, jumping in place. Padmé looked to them now, tears welling in her eyes, but a small smile on her lips.

Vader stepped back from the crib as Padmé stepped towards it. She gave them kisses all over and told them how much she loved them. Once they seemed satisfied with their attention, they sat back down to play with the toys they’d been handed.

“Please, don’t take them,” Padmé begged quietly. She took Vader’s hands into her own. “I’ll come with you. Just leave them.”

“Are they mine?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” She smiled sadly, reaching up to run her fingers through his dirty blonde hair. “Luke looks so much like you.”

“Luke?”

“Luke and Leia,” Padmé said. “Their names.”

Anakin sat in the rocking chair in the room, watching as the two play by themselves. Padmé had spoke quietly enough for them not to hear, but their eyes flickered over to their parents constantly. As if they knew who he was. Maybe they did, they seemed force sensitive, any child of his would be, but it was almost as if it was being masked. 

“Obi Wan is here, isn’t he?” Anakin assumed. There was no way the children would go without a protector. Despite his dislike of the Jedi, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad with Obi Wan at the moment. He couldn’t find himself to be mad at anyone. 

“Yes,” Padmé confirmed, her eyes looking to the closed door. “He’s right outside.”

“Figures,” Anakin laughed. Padmé didn’t see the amusement in the situation, but how could she? She probably thought he intended on taking their twins to raise them as Sith. “I’m leaving.”

“Okay,” Padmé frowned, biting her lip nervously. “Just let me say goodbye to them, please?” 

“No,” Anakin said firmly.

“But-“

“You’re staying,” he finished, standing up from the chair. She looked at him in shock. 

“What do you mean?” Padmé asked. She almost seemed hurt.

“The children need you,” Anakin told her, placing a gloved hand on her cheek. “I love you too much to take you away from them.”

“Oh, Ani,” she reached up to take his face in both of her hands, “I love you too.” 

This time, she was the one to kiss him. For a moment, it felt as if everything they’d ever wished for had come true. That Anakin had never been corrupted, that their children had been raised in a peaceful world, that they were happy. Everything was so close to their reach, and now, they had to lose each other again, because it was all they could do.

“Padmé?” A voice broke their kiss, and when they looked up, Ahsoka and Obi Wan were found at the door. Anakin’s old master looked intrigued and even amused by the situation, but Ahsoka just seemed angry. 

“Ahsoka,” Padmé grinned, happy to see her after so long. She ran up to hug both her and Obi Wan, but returned to Anakins side swiftly. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka said, as if she wasn’t paying attention to Padmé. Anakin could feel his old padawans anger thick in the air; Ahsoka could never be a Sith, but she wasn’t a Jedi either. “We won’t let him take the children.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Anakin said simply. He leaned down to Padmé’s ear, and whispered to her before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Goodbye, my love,” He said, and then walked out without protest. 

“You shouldn’t of taken my lightsabers,” Ahsoka grumbled to Obi Wan.


	10. Chapter 10

“Padmé,” Breha ran to embrace her friend as soon as the Sith had left the docking bay without a word. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Bail was skeptical that Vader had left Padmé on Alderaan, and he made that clear to Breha. The queen wanted to be the one to tell her friend what they’d decided.

“Me too,” Padmé sighed. She hasn’t left the twins nursery since Vader left, and neither had Ahsoka and Obi Wan, who sit in the corner of the room talking in a hushed tone. The young woman seemed aggravated, but Obi Wan kept his cool demeanor.

“How did you get away from him?” Breha asked. The queen had worked hands on in the planets anti slavery initiative, but Padmé didn’t show any sign she’d been treated in such a way that most people at the palace had expected. If anything, she looked like she had come back from a mild vacation. 

“I don’t know,” Padmé brushed the topic away. “I’m here now, that’s all that matters.”

Breha nodded, she knew better than to push with things like this, though she worried her husband, as understanding and sweet as he was, would be much too worried to let his questions go on unanswered.

“Bail has suggested we relocate you and the children,” Breha said gently. Padmé looked to the queen in shock, but she didn’t seem to upset.

“When?” She asked.

“Within a few days,” Breha looked over to Ahsoka and Obi Wan, who were now paying attention to the conversation. “Obi Wan will come with you, of course, and Ahsoka is welcome as well.”

“Isn’t Obi Wan needed for the rebellion?” The queen only smiled; Padmé was always one to put the good of the people before her own.

“He’ll stay with you for a while, and then begin to take trips back and forth,” Breha relayed her husbands directions. While she cared about the rebellion, she was much more focused on maintaining peace and a good image to the empire and the planets loyal to it, so Bail ran things like these.

“We should begin packing soon, I suppose,” Padmé sighed, and Obi Wan stood up to help her.

—

Anakin laid on his large bed, holding the pillow Padmé had used to his chest like he was a child. The Executor had been set on course for Coruscant, where the emperor lived. 

He couldn’t focus on that now, or on how he’d have to find a way to mask his obvious conflict. All he could think about was Padmé, the twins, his family. He had children, the children he thought he’d killed. 

Anakin wished he could’ve taken them and Padmé, that he could’ve boarded the small ship and gone right past any imperial forces and straight to Naboo, or some other planet, where they could live peacefully and happily. 

It made Anakins gut turn and his heart ache. The twins burned like his home planets suns, and being exposed to that light, even for just a moment, burned a bright hole in his soul. 

He longed to be with them, he would do anything to be with them. Anakin realized his next steps were obvious. 

Picking himself up from his bed, he stepped towards his large walk in closet. Behind the his same old black cloaks and a few of the dresses he’d gotten made for Padmé, was a box made of japor wood. It hadn’t been opened since it had been placed there. He moved the symbols to their correct places, and the gold lock opened with a small click. 

Inside, the silver lightsaber Anakin had had as a Jedi was placed, untouched for years. He picked it up and held it firmly. It’s weight was familiar in his hand, in a way the saber he kept as a Sith never had. Both were fine weapons, and his skill had never lacked, but be found himself more comfortable with this one. 

Anakin ignited the blue saber, and its glow spread throughout the room. He thought of his children, of Padmé. He couldn’t break all the promises he’d made to her, not now. 

—

The emperors palace was cold as the man inhabiting it was, with badly lit halls that smelt of mildew and cleaning supplies. Anakin wore his usual attire, the clunky suit he’d hope to retire before he left this dreaded place.

In the thrown room, it was just the two of them, Palpatine’s usual guards sent away at the request of his apprentice. Anakin wasn’t sure if they lacked loyalty or brains, but either way, he was grateful. He kneeled before his master.

“Your report on Alderaan,” Palpatine requested.

“There was nothing to report on, Master,” Anakin lied easily, he was used to it at this point. “The rebellion seems void there.”

“My informants must be mistaken,” The emperor hummed. “They’ll be punished accordingly.”

Anakin nodded, a small smirk forming under that ghastly mask he wore. “Punishments are in order, Master.” 

“Excuse me?” The old man croaked, narrowing his eyes at his apprentice. Despite his declining power, he still had quite a bit of intuition. “For your own good, I’d watch yourself if I were you.”

“Or what? Face your consequences?” Anakin laughed, clearly angering the emperor. As if that wasn’t enough, he removed his face covering, shaking his hair out nonchalantly. “I’m not afraid of you, old man.”

“You should be,” Palpatine sneered, reaching out with his bony fingers to send a shock of lightning towards the other man. 

Anakin ducked out of the way quickly, but his master was just as quick, moving his aim towards the new position. The lightning hit him, and he bared his teeth as he took it, unwillingly to give the emperor the satisfaction of seeing him falter. 

“Your tolerance is strong,” The elderly man spoke from thin, cracking lips, “but you can only take so much. Admit defeat, as you always have before. You will never be stronger than me.” 

“I have been,” Anakin panted as the electricity finally left his body, “For some time now, I’ve been stronger than you. Denying it will only leave you more vulnerable.” 

He ignited his lightsaber before Palpatine had another chance to hit him, and began sprinting full force. Anakin wasn’t sure if it was the shock or if old people just looked like that, but the man stayed unmoving, wide eyes staring at him as he ran. Finally, his blade was at his throat. 

“You’ve only proved yourself to be the Sith I’ve created,” the emperor choked, his sick smile creeping up his face. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to.”

Anakin’s face fell momentarily, but he kept his saber to the mans neck. 

“After this, you will be worse than I ever was,” the blade was close enough to sear the top layer of his skin, and he hissed. “She will never love a monster like you.”

“You’re wrong,” Anakin said forcefully, his face scrunched up angrily. “You’re not dying out of my need for power, as any good Sith apprentice would. You’re dying because I have promises to keep.”

He let the blade cut deeper into the mans skin, the pain so unbearable he could no longer talk, but he could surely listen.

“You’re dying because I’m not your pet anymore,” Palpatine’s eyes practically bulged from his head. “Because I’m not a Sith.”

With that, Anakin pushed the blade completely through his neck, and the emperors head tumbled down to the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

The news of the emperors passing came first, leaving Padmé ecstatic, and Obi Wan and Ahsoka even more worried than ever. It was no surprise that Darth Vader would kill his master, it was expected by everyone who understood the customs of Sith. Had he not killed his master, he eventually would’ve been offed. 

Neither had the heart to tell Padmé, though. It was only further proof Anakin was lost to the dark.

What none of them had expected, though, was the update that Vader had also been assassinated, turned on by almost all of his personal squadron, who were led by an unknown Jedi.

The rebellion moved quick, and the members who resided on Coruscant were no doubt already talking to the anonymous hero. 

Obi Wan was told first, by Bail, who’d asked if he would accompany him to the capital planet. The Jedi didn’t answer though. Instead, he went straight to Ahsoka. 

“Dead?” She almost looked as if she was about to cry, Vader may not have been Anakin, but it hurt all the same. “Are you sure?” 

Obi Wan nodded, but if he were to be honest, he wasn’t actually. He had felt Palpatine’s death, strong and clear in the force, but not Vader’s. 

“We need to tell Padmé,” Ahsoka decided quickly. Obi Wan nodded; she was right, of course, but no one would want to be the one to break it to her. Ahsoka was convinced the women was brainwashed by the Sith, Obi Wan didn’t comment. 

The pair stepped into the nursery that Padmé hadn’t left since Vader’s departure. She was happily cooing to the twins. The children had never heard of their father before Padmé had returned, but now they spent every waking moment asking questions about him. Their mother happily answered, though she did leave out the last few years of his life. 

“Padmé,” Obi Wan spoke softly, and she quickly moved to look at him, setting Luke down in the crib. “Can we speak for a moment?”

“Of course,” She smiled, walking to him and Ahsoka, who was shuffling nervously. The three took a step into the empty hall. “What’s the matter?” 

“Vader has died,” Ahsoka blurted out before Obi Wan had the chance to speak, he glared at her.

“What?” Padmé furrowed her eyebrows, she didn’t seem sad quite yet, only confused. 

“He was killed by a Jedi,” Obi Wan sighed. He rested a hand on Padmé’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“Who?” She asked, and Obi Wan looked at her oddly, he didn’t see how that mattered. 

“Well, we don’t know who exactly-“ He started. 

“I’d like to meet them,” Padmé decided. “Bail will be going to Coruscant now, won’t he? Have him take me along.” 

“Are we sure that’s safe?” Obi Wan was bewildered by her suddenness. “What about the children?”

“If both Vader and Palpatine are dead, what’s the worry?” He hated that she made sense.

“Fine,” Obi Wan agreed, “but me and Ahsoka are going to.” Next to him, the young Togruta groaned.

—

Bail didn’t take much convincing to let Padmé go. He’d been reluctant, of course, but he was also in a hurry, and decided quickly that he had no time for an argument. 

The trip to Coruscant from Alderaan was quick, and within a few hours, they had landed. 

“If you’re here for revenge on the jedi, know it won’t happen,” Obi Wan whispered to Padmé as they walked down the ramp. Revenge was the most likely of the many possibilities she’d want to be here, Obi Wan had decided, but he’d make sure nothing like that happened. He couldn’t have her going to jail just after the fall of the empire.

“You think so little of me,” Padmé laughed at him; she’d been almost scarily upbeat the entire day. Maybe he wasn’t giving her enough credit for her separation of Anakin and Vader, or maybe she was finally losing it. 

The two continued down, Bail walking ahead of them. The senator stopped to speak with Mon Mothma, and after only a few moments, his eyes were practically bulging from his head. Obi Wan furrowed his eyebrows worriedly, and a familiar feeling washed over him. How had he not noticed before. 

“Isnt he supposed to be dead?” He heard Bail question his colleague frantically. She laughed, nodding. 

“Isn’t she?” Mon nodded to Padmé, who smiled back graciously to her old friend. She dragged Obi Wan by his arm down to them, Ahsoka tailing closely behind.

“Where is he?” Padmé asked, and Mon looked at her, obviously confused and a bit shocked she wasn’t more surprised. “I have good hearing,” She clarified. 

“He’s been asking for you,” Mon told her, her eyes flickering worriedly to Obi Wan, but he paid no mind. The Jedi Order was no more, breaking the code didn’t matter. “He told us everything.”

Ahsoka tried not to role her eyes. If everything meant that the two were married with children, Mon was obviously late to the party. Really, she’d forgotten that part was a secret. She’d known only a few months into being Anakins padawan. 

“Take me to him,” Padmé grinned, and both Bail and Mon nodded happily. Obi Wan and Ahsoka stayed behind, watching as the group moved forward.

—

It was as if they’d time traveled back. Anakin stood smiling in the hall outside the senate chamber, crowded by people praising his accomplishment. Some who were loyal to the emperor looked to him in disgust, but those were few and far between. Even the foulest of systems had had gripe with the emperor.

Padmé almost didn’t want to disrupt him. The scene was something out of her dreams, her husband finally returning home, not Vader. It seemed impossible just to observe though, as he sensed her almost instantly.

“Padmé!” Anakin called, lifting his head over the crowd. The swarm around him all looked to her, and slightly parted as he ran towards her, slightly picking her up in a tight hug. 

“Anakin,” Padmé laughed, pressing her face into the dark Jedi robes he wore once again. She felt as she began to cry into his shoulder, and though the people around them began to fade with his attention, their gawking at the apparent reunion of star crossed lovers was obvious. “You did it.”

“For you, and the children,” Anakin said, and Padmé heard about five people whisper a question pertaining to the twins at once. She didn’t care though, she only reached up to kiss him. 

“I love you,” she laughed as they broke away. 

“Master Skywalker,” an attendant Padmé didn’t recognize approached Anakin quite nervously, obviously not happy to be the one interrupting them. “There’s been a request you are brought before the senate.”

“As long as you promise the politics will be kept to Bail and Mon,” Anakin laughed, though his wife saw a bit of fear there. The politics he knew were nothing but cruelty, and it was well known he had always disliked them.

“Of course,” the attendant nodded, and led the two into the senate rotunda. 

—

Two Years Later

The Lake Country on Naboo had been the perfect place to take their first family vacation, but it didn’t take long for them to decide they’d spend half the year there and the other half in Coruscant.

The twins, aged five now, loved to run in the fields and play in the lakes. With their power growing, the emptiness of it all made it perfect for Anakin to begin training them. He wasn’t much of a Jedi, and he wasn’t exactly training the children to be either, but they were still training all the same.

Padmé often took the children to pick pears off the large orchard they owned with the property. She had gone back to being a senator, though most of her appearances were via holo. 

Anakin didn’t work much. On occasion, Ahsoka or Obi Wan would ask him to accompany them on a mission. It had taken a long while, but both had come to accept him as their brother again, and often visited to see the children.

Mostly, their family lived quietly. Homeschooling the children and enjoying each other’s company. They knew as they grew, they’d need to spend more time in Coruscant, exposing them to people and readying them to choose their own life paths. But for now, they were content in the Lake Country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that’s it! i hope you all enjoyed and will check out some of my other works.


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